


A Special Sort of Familiarity

by Yukitsu



Category: Hunter X Hunter
Genre: Implied Sexual Content, M/M, Mentions of the rest of the Zoldyck household
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-25
Updated: 2016-02-25
Packaged: 2018-05-23 04:19:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,260
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6104710
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Yukitsu/pseuds/Yukitsu
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He had almost killed the boy, Silva thinks vaguely as he withdraws his hand from Kuroro's neck. The brat smiles at him like his life was never in any danger, before continuing to slip his way into Silva's hotel room. </p><p>"It's nice to see you again as well, Master Silva," Kuroro says, the playful lilt in his voice more pronounced than Silva remembers. </p><p>---<br/>Ten years ago, Kuroro paid Silva a visit. Kuroro was pushy, Silva was not amused.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Special Sort of Familiarity

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Lynffles](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lynffles/gifts).



He had almost killed the boy, Silva thinks vaguely as he withdraws his hand from Kuroro's neck. The brat smiles at him like his life was never in any danger, before continuing to slip his way into Silva's hotel room.

"It's nice to see you again as well, Master Silva," Kuroro says, the playful lilt in his voice more pronounced than Silva remembers.

"Are you coming back?" he asks instead, because that's the only reason he can think why Kuroro would sneak into his room in a city a thousand miles away from Kukuru Mountain. Silva steps back from where he'd anticipated Kuroro's entry and sits down on one of the armchairs in the suite. Kuroro is not invited to seat himself, but Silva reckons since the brat isn't in his service at the moment, he might as well take the rare privilege.

Kuroro doesn't, because, well. Silva doesn't actually know. Instead, Kuroro stands by the window like a shadow.

"No, of course not. I like what I do now."

"Thievery with your motley crew?"

Kuroro laughs, looking genuinely amused, and approaches him. Silva doesn't tense because Kuroro isn't a _threat_ to him, but he searches the boy for hostile nen anyway. Silva can tell that he's stronger now, perhaps far stronger than he would have become if he'd stayed under Tsubone and eventually Kikyou’s training, and despite his deep disapproval of any one of their staff members leaving the Zoldick household, he thinks it suits the kid.

"I'm surprised you kept track. Or that you remember me at all."

"Tsubone was angry when you left. She had high hopes for you," Silva answers, because it's the logical reply. There's no need to mention that he'd thought Kuroro would have made a wonderful playmate for Illumi and Milluki, someone his sons couldn't have broken even if they'd tried.

Kuroro stops in front of his chair, just shy of their knees touching, and looks thoughtful. Not regretful, Silva notes. "I like my freedom. That mountain bored me when I was eight years old."

"You didn't discover all of it." And if Silva's tone is a little reproachful, it might be out of mild disbelief that Kukuru Mountain could be that boring. Kuroro chuckles again, and moves to straddle Silva's lap. Silva doesn't twitch, but. Almost. He frowns, and Kuroro beams widely down at him.

"You'd be surprised what a kid like me got up to when no one was looking."

"I'm more interested in what you think you're getting up to right now," Silva replies heavily, his forehead creasing.

"I'm trying to seduce you," Kuroro says, flippant. His hands find their way to Silva's waist. He twitches, this time. "Is it not working?"

Silva patiently grabs him by the wrist, pulls it away from him, and takes the strip of leather where he keeps a few things tucked into his belt. "Maybe. But stealing my wallet isn't."

"I thought it might help my case."

And that's his mistake, focusing on Kuroro's one hand, because the boy has two, of course. Silva's frown deepens when he sees the wristband Kuroro has dangling from between his teeth, and looks down at his own wrist from where it came from. He takes it back, just because.

"Why?"

"Why not?"

Silva looks at him and doesn't budge. Kuroro laughs and leans forward to bring them almost nose to nose.

"You were the best puzzle in that place. I'd like to unwrap you now while I have the chance, then I can consider my hands washed of the place for good."

He sighs again, but despite his better judgment lowers his hands to Kuroro's hips. "Your idea of closure is a dangerous game. You could die for it."

"You wouldn't kill me." At Silva's stare, he concedes to explain himself. "You like it when your staff is happy, so they can throw their lives away for your family. It would make my grandmother very unhappy if you killed me."

He can't help it. His grip tightens, just a bit of threat. Silva doesn't like to be read. "I thought I was a puzzle."

"You are, but that doesn't mean I didn't solve you a bit before I left. For example, I know you didn't particularly like bedding your wife." Silva is about to throw him off his lap when Kuroro hastily amends his statement, clings to his shoulder with a laugh. "You love her, I know. I didn’t mean it that way."

"You made your base in Ryuusegai, I heard." He settles down, and Silva's hands slip under Kuroro's suit jacket, to push it off lithe shoulders. He doesn't mind the idea of bedding this one, he supposes. He's not entirely sure why, but Tsubone's brat always did have a way with people. "You know where Kikyou is from, then, and why she is like she is."

"Her charm has strong roots," Kuroro replies, voice wry, but he shrugs the jacket off and starts pulling the tie off his neck. "I like it there, though."

Silva pauses, pulls Kuroro closer by the hips. It's amusingly easy to manhandle Kuroro's weight, given his stature and height. But then again, Kuroro is pliant. "You have that in common with her, among other things."

“That’s why I thought you might be open to my approach.”

Kuroro isn’t wrong, Silva thinks, but he chooses not to reflect too much on that in favor of carefully unbuttoning Kuroro’s shirt. He doesn’t think it’s problematic to sleep with a much younger man – there aren’t a lot of moral issues that can plague a professional assassin like him, he learned very young – but Silva isn’t entirely sure of what Kikyou or Tsubone would think of it. Probably, he thinks with a sigh, Tsubone will be disappointed that Silva didn’t think to drag her grandson back to her, and Kikyou will ask if Silva properly disposed of the body afterwards.

Well. There’s no danger of bastard children with this bit of indiscretion, so the latter won’t be an issue.

“Let me,” Kuroro says, hands deftly working on Silva’s clothes. Silva raises an eyebrow, but concedes to letting the boy do as he wants.

“You were never too keen on serving before,” he points out. Kuroro looks a little surprised at the observation, but shrugs. He had never been able to hide his disdain for the duties of a Zoldick servant, even when he had been a child. Silva doesn’t remember when he had noticed it, but it might have been when Kikyou was setting Illumi to practice on some of their less talented butlers.

“Call this… making up for lost time?”

Silva snorts, leans his elbow on the armrest, and his chin on his fist, a king on his throne. Kuroro grins at him in approval, before leaning down to kiss at Silva’s bare chest, warm hands working their way down. Silva isn’t talkative in bed, which he thinks is not surprising of his character, but he gains a newfound appreciation for Kuroro’s silence. What age is Kuroro by now, anyway? Around twenty? Old enough for his silver tongue to be doubly effective from when Silva had last seen him years ago, and while Silva doesn’t think himself particularly vulnerable to Kuroro’s charms, he’s not in the mood to bicker. Games of witticisms have never particularly entertained him.

“Will you tell me what’s been happening at Kukuru while I’ve been gone?” Kuroro asks, smile both sweet and impish, and Silva. He gives an aggrieved sigh.

“I doubt if you don’t already know,” is what he says instead, quietly resistant. Kuroro kisses at his stomach, loosens his trousers.

“I know your heir was born, and another son following him. You’re very good at breeding.” Silva acquiesces that point with a small nod, shifts his hips for Kuroro pull the clothing down to his thighs. He’s reluctant to get any more bare than this, because really, who knows what trouble can come crashing into his door? But he does reward Kuroro with a touch to his cheek, tilting the boy’s face up to see him, thumb pressed to his lower lip. Kuroro’s hair is getting into his eyes, so different from how he’d been trained to gel it up as a child. Silva tries to fight the thought of how fetching it looks and gives up.

“Tsubone’s chosen your cousin as her new student. Amane.” And that’s the extent of information Silva is willing to give. If Kuroro wants more, he can pay Milluki for it. Kuroro seems to get this, because he chuckles and agreeably uses his teeth to put some pressure on Silva’s thumb.

And then Kuroro takes Silva’s cock in his hand and examines it with an expression of curiosity Silva is surprised he still has. He wonders with a small sense of unease if Kuroro actually has any experience with this, because even if Silva doesn’t care enough about fleeting intimacies with strangers, he still recognizes that Tsubone’s grandson should at least have a better first time than with a generally unresponsive man like him. All that concern goes away when Kuroro grins again, and remarks, “So the carpet does match the drapes.” Silva just frowns at him in exasperation, this time, because _this boy_ , really.

“I think,” he says, “You need to put your mouth to better use.” If he sounds impatient, it’s really only because Kuroro has more conversation in him than Silva is willing to handle from anyone.

“Of course, Master Silva.” And he does use that mouth, quite magnificently. Silva doesn’t know where he learned this particular skill, but he can’t help but be a bit glad for it when Kuroro applies himself to working Silva’s erection up.

* * *

Conversation in bed after sex is a little unexpected, but Silva supposes it’s not particularly surprising given Kuroro’s personality. Kikyou gets up soon after they’re done to fuss around the room, naked and beautiful and talking with increasing wistfulness of her desire for a daughter. Usually, Silva watches her and doesn’t say anything. He’s determined to apply the same to Kuroro, if only because he’s an old, recalcitrant man that way.

Kuroro will have none of it, apparently. “The least you can do is thank me, you know,” he says with a laugh, stretching out his legs and wiggling his toes with a delight that Silva doesn’t understand.

“Thank you,” he concedes with a restrained sigh. Silva moves to stand up from the bed and redress himself, noting with some relief that Kuroro seems to be doing the same.

A phone rings, the tone unfamiliar to Silva, and he glances at Kuroro as the kid goes through the pocket of his jacket to find the device.

“Paku,” Kuroro greets, and Silva can’t help but stare, because the change in Kuroro’s demeanor is so stark even being half-naked doesn’t take away from the strength of the impression. Kuroro’s voice goes low, his shoulders set into something Silva recognizes as confident authority, and his tone has nothing of the aggravatingly friendly, amused quality to it that Silva has been suffering from all night. This Kuroro is dangerous not because he’s disarming, but because he’s strong and he knows it. Despite himself, Silva is both intrigued and on his guard, and he sort of wishes Kuroro had used this face on him instead so he wouldn’t be as annoying.

“Thanks,” Kuroro says after a short time of listening to the person on the other line. Silva’s ears can make out a report about a mission accomplished and target items confiscated. Kuroro smiles at Silva, then, tucking the device in his back pocket and pulling on his shirt. “I’m leaving. My Ryodan just finished taking something, and I need to be there to distribute loot before they argue themselves to death. I don’t know how you manage to do it with your children, it sometimes seems like it’s more trouble than it’s worth.”

“Gotoh makes them toss coins with him to settle disputes,” Silva replies, an eyebrow raised at the abrupt change in attitude. Kuroro seems to be considering something, before he shrugs and makes his way back to the window.

“I might try it out. Anyway, I’ll have to thank you for being so obliging to me tonight. It was really helpful.”

Silva would have asked what Kuroro means, but he knows he’ll find out soon enough, so he turns his back to Kuroro’s retreating figure and finishes tying his shirt together.

Silva’s own phone rings after a minute, and when he picks up Milluki tells him that his mission has been called off because his client has been murdered and stolen from by the Geneiryodan. The target had called for a strike faster, his son tells him.

“Hm,” Silva says, because what else can he say to that? “I’ll come home, then,” he adds before hanging up.

Of course, Kikyou and Tsubone find out, because Silva tells his wife almost everything and Kikyou doesn’t let him live it down in private. Silva asks Milluki to track down Kuroro’s phone number, and he leaves him a text. Something professional, which Kikyou approves of before he sends it, because she finds it funnier than Silva appreciates. It’s good to have a little healthy competition, she reasons, and she’s sure it will benefit their sons somehow in the future.

_You cost me 17Mz. Don’t do that again._

_say hi to grandmother for me._

Silva considers replying that Tsubone has been smug and proud of the little incident for the past day, but decides not to.

**Author's Note:**

> Lyn mentioned this pair to me a (very) long time ago, and as writing practice I decided to take it up and... I don't really know what I was procrastinating on back then, but this fic turned out all right.


End file.
